Catharsis of the soul
by aspects
Summary: Sometimes life has a way of getting in the way of plans you make. Rated R for some language. (beleive me, If ever in the same situation, cussing will be happening.) Might also be some romance, definately going to be emotions flying around. Give it a try
1. the chair

I took my other stuff off of here for the time being because, well, it's really not all that good. I spent 7 months in the chair myself before I got lucky, and well, I felt this was a story I could tell without being too far out of touch with the subject. With any luck, anyone who liked my other stuff will see it put back on once I tweak it a bit and make it a bit more... good. I hope you enjoy this story and let me know what you think, it'd be greatly appreciated. By the way, I neither own Kim Possible, nor any other trademarked Disney owned intellectual property. Technically, I don't even own all of me anymore.

chapter1

Ron Stoppable awoke and watched as the blood flowed into the machine. His back hurt and his legs felt cold and numb from just below his knees to the tips of his toes. He could feel the twin needles move about under the tape on his skin. He could feel the grittiness of the blood as it travelled from the machine back into his left arm. It was as though someone were pumping him full of minute chunks of crystalized ice wrapped in molten lead. He shifted uncomfortably on the pillow that was under him, trying to be comfortable but only able to stare at the countdown on the machine's readouts and the spinning pump that ran his blood into the drip fed filter. The machine was his life, and he hated it. _'No, it's the chair I really hate. The off/puke green color. The squeeky sound it makes. The little fold up arm tables on either side. The fake leather feel of it. Most of all, I hate the way I can never get comfortable in it. How it makes my lower back knot up and squirm on it's own in ways I can never make anyone understand. How it makes me wake up in time to watch as the sun rises, always right as the sun rises. The chair is here to mock me. To torture me. To make me experience every last second that I have to spend in it.' _He started to cry then, to let go of all restraint and weep uncontrollably. _'I don't want to do this anymore. I want to stop, I want to die now. All I have to do is go home and wait. I'm not afraid of death anymore. All I have to do is just stop. Why can't I stop? Why won't you let me stop?'_

Bonnie came to check on him, to see if she could comfort the man who held his head in his hands and wept long, racking, heart breaking sobs. "It's ok Ron." She said as she held and rocked him, tears welling up in her own eyes. "Shhhhh. It's all right. Let it out. It's ok." "Sorry. I'm sorry, i am. I'm so sorry. I don't mean to do this, really. It's just, you know?" His arms tightened around her and the emotions flooded out of him. "You quit that, now. you don't have a thing to be sorry about, especially not to me." He sat back then, looking at her through his tear stained eyes and sniffing his runny nose. "I just hate this Bonnie. This place, this life, this, this... this chair." He laughed after the last word came out. "I never thought a piece of furniture would be the bane of my existance, you know?" Bonnie smiled at him, a pain filled smile of concern and worry. She looked over at the machine. "Ron, you've got about fifteen minutes left, but I'm going to go ahead and unhook you now. It sounds to me like you've done about all you can today. Relax and I'll be back in a second." He lay back then, his emotions fluctuating from relief to guilt over coming off the machine early. "Ok Bonnie. You're the nurse, after all."

It always hurt when the needles came out, always. It was like being stabbed in reverse. The gauze and tape and bandages were next, tight against his skin. He got up out of the hateful chair then, and sat right back down as the wave of dizziness overtook him. It was like fizzy bubbles travelled up from his shoulder blades to the top of his head and all he could do was pray he fell correctly as up, down and all directions in between exchanged places. "Give it a few minutes Ron. Getting up so soon is bound to take it out of you. You just rest and I'll help you over to the scale when you think you can walk. He waved off her offer of help when he arose a few seconds later and concentrated on maintaining his balance enough to walk to the small scale set in the floor. "Seventy nine point three kilos Bonnie." "Ok Ron. That's pretty good, we seem to be able to get the excess fluid out with little resistance. Next time we'll try for a slower pull, make it so you're not quite so wiped when you come off." "That'd be great Bonnie." Ron excused himself to the restroom. as the door locked, he sank down to feel the cold of the floor against his face. after a minute or so, he unsteadily got up, his head feeling better and his mind not quite so sluggish, and sat on the bowl to releive the small residual pressure on his bladder. When he came out, he found his things had been put in his duffel bag, his blanket folded up and his squeeze ball laying on top. He picked up the bag and hugged Bonnie once more and went into the foyer to wait on his ride. Bonnie watched as he got in the car soon after it pulled up and told the charge nurse. "Michele, I'm going out back for a smoke break." She closed the door to the parking lot behind the building, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, took a deep drag and let it out quickly. Then she too buried her face in her hand and cried hard, bitter tears.

The passenger seat of the car was the antithesis of the chair. In it, Ron could fall asleep without the slightest problem. Kim looked over at her friend as he slept. _'I hate this. Look at him. He's so, so... weak. Helpless. Vulnerable. It's not right.' _She couldn't help but feel guilt, not over anything specific, just the guilt that there was nothing she could do. _'I am guilty.' _She thought. _'I should have seen it, I should have known something was wrong. I almost lost him.' _As they reached his house, Ron woke up groggily. Kim made him lean on her as she carried his bag and helped him into his room. He collapsed on the bed, exhausted beyond measure. As she started to take his shoes off and fetch a blanket to cover him with, He spoke in that not quite there voice he always had after a session. "K.P.,... Kim. I, I love you, and I'm sorry. Sorry I did this to you." He fell asleep before the final word was even out of his mouth. "I love you too Ron. I love you too."


	2. collapse

chapter2

Kim walked down the stairs into the living room. She knew that Ron would sleep for at least another eight or nine hours. She had seen that the sessions on the machine were draining beyond any exhaustion she herself had ever known. It hurt her to see him so weak and empty. He would try to dismiss it, to make her not worry, but she could see it in his eyes that it was all a bluff. His eyes always gave away the pain and the frustration. _'If only I had seen past his bluff earlier, he wouldn't be in as bad a shape as he is.' _It had started with the occasional nose bleeds and the trembling in his hands. They happened infrequently, but looking back, Kim knew they had been the first warning signs of Ron's body failing. He had been spending more and more of his time between work and school sleeping, half the time not bothering to change out of his clothes or to even get under the blanket. Sometimes he didn't even make it to the bed. He had said he was just tired from the full class load and the job he had insisted on taking to pay for his studies. He hadn't told her about the frequent chest pains, or how later, even five minutes of exertion would leave him dizzy, gasping for breath, his heart and temples pounding loudly. The doctors at the school infirmary had called it the flu and stress and given him antibiotics, told him to take it easy,and sent him home. After the fourth time, on the Monday after graduation, he had finally come to her, his breathing labored, his face drained of all color, clutching his chest. "K.P., I think I need to go to the hospital." "Ron? What's wrong?" "I think, I think I'm going to die Kim." He collapsed in the doorway in front of her.

The emergency room doctor at the hospital diagnosed him as having the flu and being under stress. He gave both Kim and Ron a look of impatience, like they were both wasting his time. Ron said he was feeling better and was getting up to leave, but Kim had insisted that the doctor do more than just a cursory glance and call it a diagnosis. The doctor had scoffed, but given in. "It's your money, but other than some flu and stress symptoms, he looks as healthy as a horse." _'You wouldn't say that if you had seen him twenty minutes ago.' _The doctor had drawn three vials and proceeded to walk off in a huff, grumbling the whole time. Thirty minutes later, the emergency room was awash with a multitude of hospital personel, orderlies and a surgical team flipping through charts and talking rapidly. "Mr. Stoppable. Mr. Stoppable, can you hear me? We need you to sign these forms. When was the last time you've eaten? Mr. Stoppable, do you have any allergies to any anesthetics? What about antibiotics? Call up to the fourth floor and make sure we have plenty of AB negative! Mr. Stoppable? Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the room for the time being while we try to stabilize him. Ok people! We're on a time limit here! Make sure we have a chest wall kit ready to go. Miss, I really need you to give us room here. Call Jenkins. We'll need to do a fistula as well. Let's go people!"

Kim stood in stunned silence during the flurry of activity around her. Less than an hour ago, she was on top of the world. She was a college graduate, happy, without a care or concern of any type. The future had been bright, her prospects limitless. Now she was at the bottom of a hole, scared and alone. All she could see was the image of her best friend as the doctors had hurried to prepare him for surgery. All she could think of was his eyes giving her an unfocused look and how shallow the rise and fall of his chest had been. How horrible he had looked with all the tubes and sensors on his body. His face covered by an oxygen mask and he was becoming... hollow, sunken, like his grip on life was only held on by a finger tip. She sat down suddenly, her body giving up the ability to keep her on her own two feet. A nurse approached her. "Miss, is there anything I can do? Anyone I can call?" Kim looked up, unable to speak. Her face was screwed up and the start of tears shone fresh in her eyes. The nurse looked at her. "Miss?" Kim grabbed her into the fiercest hug she could, using the woman to hold herself in reality. "Mmmm, Mmmmmmommy. I, I, I Wa, Want muh, muh Mommmyyyyyyy!!!"

One of the doctors in the emergency room had recognized Kim and had placed the page over the intercom system. Miriam Possible heard her name over the speaker telling her her daughter was in the emergency room and ran down the hall, fearing the worst, that her daughter's luck had finally run out. She tried to push back visions of her daughter lying broken and bleeding on a gurney out of her mind. As she turned the corner, she felt at once both relief and confusion at the sight of her daughter, her tough, fierce, unshakable daughter, heaving sobs of remorse and loss. "Kimmie? Kimmie, what's going on?" She looked about the emergency room then and her heart sank once again. She asked hesitently. "Where's Ron?" Her sense of dread bottomed out and continued to fall as Kim reached and clung to her, pulling her close, trying to hide her face away from the harsh reality of what was happening.

Kim's father had shown up with her brothers shortly after Ron's parents arrived. Ron's mother had immediately grabbed Kim and held her, not saying a word or letting go until the surgeon came out to talk to them . "We had to do an emergency chest wall catheter. It was touch and go there for a while. He had toxic levels of ammonia, potassium and phosphorus in his system. From what we're seeing by the numbers, it looks like he's been in renal failure for about six months and his body was missing roughly two pints of blood. Without a way to filter out the wastes, his body was just poisoning itself. By all means and rights, he should have been dead at least five or six months ago. We have him on dialysis now in recovery and we're slowly feeding his body blood to replace what he lost. The next few days will be critical, but with any luck, he should be relatively all right. We'll need to do a fistula for when the time comes to remove the catheter. That can wait a few days. For now, he seems to be out of danger. I know you all must be eager to see him and I'll let you into recovery in about two hours when he wakes up."


	3. deal?

chapter3

Ron woke up feeling like hell. His tounge was bloated and sticking to the roof of his mouth. His eyes wouldn't focus and everything was strangely silent. His chest and neck hurt, like there was sand being forced into him. He peered down and saw a bandage on his upper right chest roughly the size of his palm with two pieces of white tubing protruding out and travelling off to some weird machine. He turned his head and felt the right half of his neck start to peel off. He stopped moving his neck immediately, the shock of the sensation bringing him to instant awareness. _'Ok, that's not good. I mean, 's not like I'm a doctor or anything but your neck peeling off can't be a good thing, can it?'_ "How're you feeling Ron?" A worried Kim asked as she stood over him. He answered in a dry, cracked voice. "Oh, peachy and keen too K.P. How're you?" Kim's face lost a bit of the worry. "Well, I'm missing a date with this really cute boy that was _supposed_ to be taking me out to celebrate my birthday." "Heh. Cute, is he?" "Oh, very. Well, not too cute right _now_, but usually he's down right adorable." Ron laughed and spoke in his scratchy voice. "Well, I'll explain it all to him. I'm sure he'll understand. He's just that kind of guy, from what I hear."

Kim sat on the edge of the hospital bed. "Yeah. Normally, he's a great guy. Wouldn't do silly things like not tell me he's been sick for six months. Especially when his mom tells me he's got some rare inherited disease that'll, oh, shut his kidneys down and kill him." Ron grimaced. "Ah, so that's what it was, huh? Would you believe I kinda forgot about that? Really did think I was just tired from school and work. Mom and dad here?" "Your's, mine, Jim and Tim, everybody. Even Wade." "No way, you mean it took _this_ to finally get to see Wade in the flesh?" Kim sighed. "He was worried. We all are Ron. Why didn't you tell me about this?" Ron scootched up in bed. "Kim, the last time I even gave any of this any thought at all was when I was thirteen. You tend to repress such things." Kim's face took on an even more serious look. "You should have told me you were sick sooner Ron. I almost lost you." Her eyes misted up. "Come here Pandaroo." He hadn't called her by that nickname in years. She lay her head in his lap as he stroked her hair. "I'm sorry Kim, I really am. It'll be all right. I'm too damn mean to die, you oughta know that by now." Kim looked up at him and sniffed. "You better be glad you're sick and in the hospital already, cause otherwise I'd kick your ass for this one Ron Stoppable. Don't ever scare me like that again, ok?" "You got it Kim."

The following Monday, Kim was glaring at Ron in shock. The nurse at the dialysis center in Middleton was looking at the two of them with a glee filled, scornful look as what she just told them sank in. "We'll of course rerun the tests Mr. Stoppable, but it looks like you have Hepatitus C. If that is the case, and we're sure it is, then you'll have to go to the center in Upperton. They have isolation facilities there to deal with cases such as your's." Her look gave away _exactly _what she was thinking. '_Little pervert, serves him right. I'll bet that's how his kidneys gave out in the first place. _"Hand to God Kim, I don't know how this could have happened, the test has to be wrong, I swear!"

They had arrived at the Upperton facility roughly a half hour later. Michele, the charge nurse, had been friendly and very helpful with dealing with the questions both Ron and Kim had had. She had shown them the facility, talking cheerfully the whole while. "Ron, I just want you to know, even if the test comes back positive, that's not going to be a problem. We're well trained to deal with that sort of thing here and believe me, unlike Kathy over in Middleton, we know there are way more ways to have contracted Hepatitus C than that little miss holier than thou seems to think. But let's hold off on the gloomy gus attitude til the second test comes back." Michele introduced them to the floor staff and told Ron about his chair times as the phone rang. "We're getting a fax from the lab right now about your blood work Ron." The fifteen seconds that it took for the paper to print in the fax machine were some of the longest Ron could remember ever having to go through. Michele looked at the paper in her hand, then up at Ron. She had a smile on her face as she grabbed him and just proceeded to hug the life right out of him. "EEEEEE! I'm sooo happy for you!" Kim sat down with a look of relief on her face. "Ok, now I really mean it Ron. Don't _ever_ scare me like this _again_. My heart can't take it. Deal?" Ron pulled her up into the hug. "Deal."


	4. Two foot and BonBon

chapter4

_'Ok, no one needs to be awake at this hour.' _He had gotten up at four thirty that next morning, cursing and resentful, to make the half hour trip to Upperton. Kim had insisted on taking him. "Don't argue with me here Ron, there's no way you can drive. Michele made a point of telling me how much this is going to take out of you. " Ron sighed. The tubing protruding out of his chest irritated him to no end, it wouldn't stay taped in place and kept dangling down almost to his waist. He felt sticky and filthy as well. He'd had a sponge bath last night, but he really didn't feel clean. _'Never thought I'd see the day where I'd pay good money to get into an actual shower, rather than have a beautiful woman scrub my body for free. Hell, usually it'd work the other way around. Heh. Think I'll keep that little bit to myself. Kim'd likely take it the wrong way.' _They'd pulled up to the parking lot in the Upperton shopping center at ten minutes to six. There were about eight other cars there already and Ron saw people moving about behind the glass wall of the dialysis center. "I see Michele's car here, Ron's too." Ron had been one of the nurses they had met yesterday. "Weird how there's a nurse named Ron, hope it doesn't get too confusing." Kim looked around. "I could swear I know that Camaro from somewhere." They both shrugged it off as they entered the center.

Admittedly, Kim had taken the sight better than Ron ever thought she would. _'Ahhh, so that's her Camaro. This's gonna be fun and a biscuit.' _"Ron Stoppable!" The very... bouncy brunette in front of them scolded. "You know, I remember saying fuck off and die, but I didn't think you'd actually try and do it." Her voice held no malice, just a hint of familiar good natured ribbing. 'Well Bon-Bon, you know me. A literalist to a fault." She came up and hugged the both of them. "How are you two doing? I mean, outside of the obvious, of course. When you finally do get better, I will be smacking you upside the head for pulling a stunt like this Ron." _'Greattt. Nothing like finding out your ex will be the one helping to keep you alive. Funny there God. Realll funny.' _Kim spoke finallyin that upturned lilt of a voice she had when she was semi tweaked. "Bonnie!... working...Here! Of all places. How...Nice. How are you doing Bonnie?" Ron cringed inside. _'Maybe if I have a seizure or something Kim won't give me the silent/not silent treatment later on.'_

_'Dammit, I was kidding!' _As it had turned out, Ron didn't need to fake a seizure at all. He had spazed out quite nicely thirty minutes into the session. _'No. Nope. Nu-uh. Me no likey the chair.' _His body had rebeled against even the notion of remaining in a sitting position. It felt like nothing he could put into words. His shoulder blades continuously clenched up and the base of his spine was screaming at him to stand up. Bonnie had sat in his lap facing him and pinned his arms down to try and keep him from hurting himself. Later, when he finally had regained some control over himself, she had laughed and said how after all that, she'd need a cigarette and possibly a pregnancy test. "If I find out all this was just to get me to give you some kinda lap dance...Kidding. Don't worry Ron, you're not the first person to react like that, and you certainly won't be the last. We'll just keep this between us, ok? I have a feeling that, even though Kim trusts you, she'd really rather not hear about you having your ex riding you in a chair." Ron nodded gratefully. "Thanks Bon-Bon." "No problem Two Foot, just don't make a habit out of it or I _will _tell Kim how you got that nickname." Ron laughed then, giving Bonnie a quizical look. "How do you know she doesn't know already?" Bonnie winked and told him to try and get some sleep.

After Ron had left at ten o'clock, Michele joined Bonnie out back for a smoke break. "Two Foot? Bon-Bon? I take it you know our Mr. Stoppable then?" "We dated for a while in college." "And the whole 'fuck off and die' thing? Did things not end so well? Because if it's going to be a problem..." " No, as far as a break up can go well, our's did. I told him to fuck off and die the first time he ever asked me out." "What made you go out with him then?" Bonnie grinned, thinking back while her eyes held a hint of sadness and nostalgia. "Had to see if the nickname around campus was deserved." "You mean? .... Ohhhhhhhh. Bad girl, I'm impressed. Too bad he's not single, he's a cutey. I might have tried to verify it for myself." "What? Oh, He's single all right. But you wouldn't have a chance. It's why we broke up. His heart belongs to someone else." Michele took a final drag on her cigarette and put it out. "Lucky girl." "Yeah. Too bad she doesn't know." Bonnie put her own cigarette out. "Well, too bad she won't admit she knows anyway." They walked back inside.


	5. rhymes with orange

Author's note: Guys, I appreciate more than you know your very kind reviews of this tale. I know there've been a few days between the last chapter and this one, but it's difficult to recall a lot of these things. Well, it's hard to get it out of my head and in front of ya'll's eyes to where I think it makes any sense anyway. FYI: Ron has Alport's syndrome. Again, thanks for your reviews. Disney own's the entirety of Kim Possible. I've got rythm, I've got music, I've got my gal, who could ask for anything more? (With apologies to Ella Fitzgerald)

chapter5

Ron awoke groggy and disoriented. He had slept badly, half remembered dream images still fresh in his mind. He got up, then fell back down into the bed. He could feel the blood continue to drain out of his face and cursed himself for getting up too quickly. The headache roared back into life, a constant, hated reminder of his weakened state. He arose once more, carefully this time, slowly, so the change in altitude didn't waylay him again, and cautiously shuffled his way into the bathroom. He sat down on the bowl, having learned the hard way that standing to pee so soon after waking from his near coma-like sleep was a task he hadn't mastered yet. He fished out a cigarette from the half empty pack on the sink counter to his left, lit it, and sucked in a huge lungful of smoke. Letting out a half hearted sigh, he rubbed his temples as the pressure headache started to move it's way up above and behind his eyes. He took another hard drag on the cigarette, watching the cherry flare up as the leaves inside caught fire and turned to ash. Reaching between his legs, he thumped the ash into the bowl. Finished, he stood up, flushed, and walked over to the sink. He looked at the clear tape covering the stitches of the small cut at the base of his neck in the mirror. "Heh. They saved my life by cutting my throat." His eyes traveled down to the palm sized bandage on his right collar bone and the twin pieces of tubing taped up next to it. "How cute. Double straws for the vampire on a date." The thought of fanged teeny boppers from Happy Days looking into each other's eyes as they shared a malted Ron Stoppable made him laugh despite himself. He took another deep drag.

His moods had become mercurial lately. They would flow like water from calm, to rage, to despair, to emotions he couldn't begin to name. The rage was what scared him most of all. It would come up out of nowhere and take over like a thing alive. What scared him was how much he enjoyed the unchecked anger, the complete and total abandonment of control. He hated how easy it was to hate and to keep hating. He took a final drag and snuffed the cigarette out. Looking in the mirror once more he spoke to his reflection. "Ok Ron, game face time. You can do it. You've been doing it your whole life. God, I could stand a drink or eight." He sighed, splashed water on his face, smiled, and left the bathroom.

He dropped the forced smile as soon as he saw it wasn't needed. Kim was asleep on the couch, a copy of _Ringworld_ in her outstretched arm. Ron sat in the chair across from her and just watched as she slept. "I had it all planned out you know." He whispered. "I even had it worded so you could have said no and not feel guilty. If you had said yes, I had that planned out too. One year. I would have asked you one year to the day. That way, if you had said no, I would have had one year of true happiness." She shivered slightly. He got up, pulled a blanket over her, and sat back down to look at her some more as she snuggled herself into the blanket's folds. He loved to watch her sleep. He loved the small, nasaly sound that came from her when she snored. He loved her smell, that subliminal hint of mint and cucumber that he could pick up from across a room. He loved the way her nose crinkled up when she was dreaming. He reached under the coffee table and grabbed a small plastic ashtray. He lit another cigarette and watched the clear blue smoke waft up lazily into the ceiling fan. "I really wish I could ask you now, but I can't. I would really have liked to have known. I like to think you'd have said..." Kim stirred and mumbled. "Yes." Then crinkled her nose and shifted the blanket up and burying herself in it. Ron looked at her and the book he had taken from her hand. "Tanj." He cursed and took another long slow drag. Laying his head back into the chair and staring at the ceiling, he repeated the curse. "There ain't no damn justice."


	6. Angora?

Chapter6

Kim woke up to a pair of dark honey colored eyes staring at her, highlighted by a red glow as the cherry on Ron's cigarette flared up and the blue smoke wafted up into the ceiling fan. The strong scent of cloves and musk reached her nostrals and she inhaled deeply. She was careful not to alert him that she had awakened. She felt his breath on her face as he looked at her, taking in every detail of her. It had become a ritual between them over the following weeks. Kim would bring Ron home and help him into bed, and then sit and watch him sleep. She truly _watched_ him as he slept. He would never show weakness to her while conscious, never let her inside his pain. So she took to watching over him for hours, listening to him breathe, rubbing on his back and shoulders to ease the knots that would sping up under his skin, making sure he was covered up again when he would kick the blanket off. She knew he was trying to spare her, she knew he loved her that much. It frustrated her to no end. These after session vigils were her way of getting beyond the facade, she would never not see when something went wrong again, she promised herself. She knew he ment well in trying to hide the pain and the sorrow and the anger, and she couldn't fault him for trying, but she also knew she would never let herself be caught off guard like before. She couldn't afford to. She had only just begun to realize how much of her life revolved around there always being a Ron Stoppable in it. She began to know just how much of her was dependant upon him. And so, they each performed their unspoken ritual. She would watch him sleep, and later he would sit across from her while she slept, smoking his clove cigarettes in the dark, and take in her scent and sight. She knew he watched her sleep. Once, he had run the back of his fingers gently down her cheek and breathed in a deep, sharp breath as she had nuzzled her cheek against them. The sharp intake had awoken her and she could feel him hesitate before she pretended to drift back into slumber. She knew then, how he felt, how he truly felt. She found herself wanting, needing, for him to be there when she woke up. She needed the comfort of familiarity. She came to depend on the smell of the cloves and the sight of fire dancing in his eyes. She grew to need to see his gaze upon her through the smoke. She became addicted to the secret thrill that watching him watch her gave off. New and differant wore down, as it always does, into familiar and comfortable.

'You selfish, selfish bastard. You know you shouldn't be doing this. It's going to devastate her when you go. If you were any kind of a man, you'd do the right thing. Make her hate you. Prepare her for what's going to happen. Mom told you how badly she broke down the first time. Do you really want her to have to go through all that again? Face it Stoppable, it takes years to find a kidney, and you don't have years to wait. January. February at the latest. That's what they told you. You moron, you waited too long, you let yourself get too sick. The dialysis is only a stop gap now. You're still dying, and you know it.' Ron brushed her cheek, as he did every night. Just a slight touch, a small bit of tactile sensation, was all he allowed himself for a guilty pleasure. Her skin felt warm and inviting under his fingers as he traced the delicate curve of her neck down and then up again, only a feather's kiss of a touch. 'I'm sorry Kim. I'm just too much of a coward to face this alone. I can't let you go. I just hope you find it in your heart to forgive me one day.'

Change is the only thing which never changes. Halfway through his second month at the center, Ron developed an infection around the chest catheter. Kim had gotten the call shortly after eight in the morning that Ron was being taken to a specialist who was going to remove the catheter. Bonnie had been the one to call. She explained to Kim that while it was somewhat early to remove the catheter, Ron's fistula should have matured enough to take over once the tubing was removed. Kim got the address of the doctor and left hurriedly to go to her friend, the cold wet feeling of dread rising up into her heart.

"Thank you Nurse Goodbodaaaay!" Ron broke out into giggles again as the nurse, whose actual name was Goodwin, sighed and took his vitals. She finished and walked outside the room to tell Kim she could see Ron now. "He's sucked down some nitrous, so he'll be a little goofy, but everything went very well." Kim thanked her and quietly wondered what a 'goofy' Ron would be like as she walked into the room. "I could swear that you were gonna knock this sort of thing off Ron." She half scolded him. "Kim! Man, this's like, um, like, um...Wow. That is an incredibly nice sweater. Cold outside? Lil nippley maybe?" He burst into peals of laughter. Kim looked down and quickly crossed her arms over her chest as she turned a brilliant shade of crimson. He wasn't supposed to notice things like that! He was Ron, for god's sake! At the same time, she liked the fact that he looked at her that way. That he saw her as more than just _Kim. _She knew he loved her, but that he also thought of her in _that_ way as well was something of a shock. 'I wonder how many times he's wanted to do more than just brush my face with his finger?' The thought only served to deepen her already red cheeks. Ron saw the look of shock and embarassment on Kim's face and it sent him even deeper into howling amusement. He sobered up suddenly, a look of humorous confusion crossing his face. "Shit. I'm saying all this out loud, aren't I?" He cringed and asked. "Did I just actually comment on your incredibly nice nippleage just now?" He clamped his hand over his mouth as he realized he had just said _that_ too. Kim sighed and kept her arms held close to her. "Yes Ron, you are, you did, and we will not be discussing it anymore while we are here, ok? Now, how are you feeling?" Ron almost fell out of the hospital bed from the renewed fit of giggles. "Why? Trying to keep abreast of the situation Kim?"


	7. gin and vermouth and seven and seven

chapter7

"Thanks for meeting me Bonnie." The two of them were sitting at a coffee bar and drinking lattes. "Nonsense Kim. I told T..., um, Ron that if he needed a shoulder, I had two, no waiting. The same goes for you." Kim bristled slightly at the close slip of Bonnie's pet name for Ron, but let it go. Suddenly, without her realizing it, everything came rushing out in a torrent. The last two months of irritation and worry and pressure all let loose. "I just want to _know_ Bonnie! He won't let me in at all! Just a smile and a wink and a 'Everything's fine K.P., no problem, can't complain'. I can't take it, I step on eggshells around him anymore. It's just, just, I get so _mad_, and then I feel so _guilty_ over being mad, and then I get frustrated and _that_ makes me mad and he won't _talk_ to me anymore! Why won't he just _talk_ to me? Why is he doing this? What did I do?" Her hands were shaking and coffee was splashing out and scalding her where it landed. Her vision blurred as her eyes welled up and stung, forcing her to clasp them tightly shut lest she lose all composure. After an awkward moment of squeezing her eyes shut and biting down on her lip, she continued. "It's just that he's so different Bonnie. _Everything's_ so... different." She put her coffee down. Bonnie sat back, then smiled. She grabbed Kim's arm and stood up. "C'mon. If we're going to have _this_ talk, we need the proper atmosphere. And alcohol. In large quantities. With paper umbrellas. And cherrys on plastic swords."

They sat and talked and drank. Bonnie had reassured Kim. "He doesn't hate you, you know." The statement made Kim sit back, a questioning look on her face "How?" "Do I know that's what you were going to ask" Bonnie smiled. "Kim, I've been dealing with people in Ron's situation for a long time. Did you know my dad was on dialysis? That's the reason I went into the medical field to begin with." She picked the olive out of her martini and bit down on it, tasting the bitterness of the gin. Chewing slowly, she sat back and rested her chin between her thumb and index finger, giving Kim a knowing look. "You're a doer Kim, I am too. So let me tell you some advice that you ought to take, but I know you won't. Accept the fact that there's nothing you can do about the situation you're in. Also, accept the fact that he's still _Ron_. And none of this is your fault. It's not his either, by the way." Kim started to protest, but Bonnie shushed her. "I know you know that up here." She tapped her head. "But in _here_" She patted her chest. "You haven't come to grips with that yet." Kim sat back and sighed.

"I hated your guts when you and Ron started dating you know. I even knew where I was going to bury the body. I had an airtight alibi and everything." Bonnie looked at Kim, took a thoughtful sip on her drink and smiled warmly as she nodded. "Good. Nice to know my plan worked." At this, Kim sat back and took a deep gulp of her own drink before answering. "You mean you actually _did _date Ron just to mess with me!" Bonnie gave Kim an arched eyebrow. "Maybe to start off, yeah. A little. There were other reasons. Tweaking you was just an added bonus. Remember, I hated your guts too. Even more so when Ron broke it off." They were sitting in a back corner of the bar, Kimhad been doingher best to act nonchalant. The act faltered as she asked. "_Ron_ broke it off? He never said, I mean, I just assumed ... Huh." Bonnie laughed. "Yeah, _he_ dumped _me_. Ironic, no? And I couldn't even get mad at him for doing it. He's slick, is our Mr. Ron Stoppable." For some reason, this made Bonnie snort and start to laugh uncontrollably. She wiped a tear out of her eye. "Ok. Let's talk. I know you've got questions and you're frustrated. So use me as a sounding board. Believe me, it really does help to vent, and I promise what you say here, stays here, as long as the same goes for me." Kim sat back and stirred her drink with her straw, thinking.

"I don't know what to say anymore. I never really thought about there not being a Ron in my life and all of a sudden, every time the phone rings, I panic. I get cold sweats. I have horrible dreams about the hospital. I keep thinking that I'm going to wake up and find out he's dead, that he died in that emergency room and I've gone insane and am just in denial. Other times, I forget he's sick, just for a moment. I wake up and think everything really is all right." Kim trailed off and Bonnie reached over to touch her arm. "You watch him sleep, don't you?" When Kim didn't answer, Bonnie continued. "I kinda figured. I do too, you know. He's like my dad was, trying hard to not worry anyone. Kim, you've got to understand, Ron hates the fact that he's hurting you more than anything else. Eventually, he'll try and get you to leave him. He'll say things, do things just to get you angry and he'll be really good at it too." The look in her eyes said that she had experience with this. "Don't you dare leave. He'll think if you do, it'll spare you the pain. It doesn't. It makes it worse, trust me. I'm going to give you my cell number and I want you to call me anytime, day or night. Anytime you need me." She sat back and polished off her drink. "Ok. Your round I think."


End file.
